


Accidental Love Letters

by martinskki



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Stydia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4464653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martinskki/pseuds/martinskki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"every time you touch my back to guide me through a crowd, or hold my hand, it's as if your fingertips are matches and my skin is sandpaper, and a fire is lit in my veins"</p><p>"your kiss has never left my mouth. it's like your lips are needles that tattooed themselves onto mine."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dear Stiles

Dear Stiles,

 

First off, I don’t intend for you to ever read this letter. As soon as I’m done with it, I’m tucking it between two books on my bookshelf never to be seen by the light of day again. But I need to let this out somehow. I need to see my feelings on a sheet of paper in front of me and face them head on, instead of hiding from them as usual.

I remember third grade. I know you don’t think I do, but I do. I remember how tiny you were, and how you wore the same green hoodie every single day. I remember sitting next to you in class, and you chasing me during games of tag on the playground. I remember you tugging on my long ponytails and calling me strawberry head. But most vividly, I remember you congratulating me every time I got an A on a spelling test, or got an answer right, on the rare occasion that I raised my hand in class. You’ve barely changed at all.

I never spoke another word to you until two years ago when our lives started changing and our paths crossed again. That is one of my biggest regrets. Not because I owed you my attention, but because once I started giving it to you, I never wanted to stop. You are gentle, and kind, and thoughtful, and you listen to every single word I say. You’ve never given up on me, even when everyone thought I was off-my-rocker-crazy.

I play it off like it’s casual, but you don’t know that every time you touch my back to guide me through a crowd, or hold my hand, it’s as if your fingertips are matches and my skin is sandpaper, and a fire is lit in my veins.

The way you look at me is a whole different story. Nobody else has ever looked at me like that, and it scared me at first. It scared me a lot. I’d get lost in your admiring gaze and forget where I was, what was wrong, who’s life was in danger. I didn’t feel like I deserved that. But now I know I do. I give you partial credit for that.

Before I kissed you that day in the locker room, I wasn’t sure of my feelings for you. Until then, you were my dopey partner in non-crime, and I wasn’t completely sure why I was drawn to you. But while I sat there, watching you panic and struggle to breathe, the first thing that came to my mind was to put my lips on yours. I expected it to be clumsy and awkward, but what I felt was the opposite. The clarity that came with your kiss was like putting on glasses and finally seeing the world for how it should be. It wasn’t until we broke apart that I remembered that holding your breath could stop a panic attack.

Since then it’s been clear. I love you. In more than one sense of the word. You are my best friend, my partner, and my hero. I have found a home in you. You are the wall I lean on for support when I am dizzy, and the blanket I wrap around me for warmth when I am shivering from cold and qualm. My life without you in it is hazy and dim. I have put the glasses on, Stiles. I’m never taking them off.

If you ever do end up reading this letter, I want you to know one thing: Whether you still feel the same way or not, I will never stop being for you what you are for me. I will never stop loving you.

Love always, Lydia


	2. Dear Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "the hazel saturation of your irises are like porch lights left on for me to get home safely."

Dear Lydia,

Between “Chemistry 101” and “Mythological Beasts”. That is where my heart stopped beating. That is where the past two years of my life flashed before my eyes as I desperately tried to make sense of your words. That is where I found your letter.

I didn’t want to read it, I swear. But when my name is written in your handwriting, it’s hard to not want to know why.

Where do I begin? Every breath I take when I’m around you is followed by a thought of how “I love you” would sound coming from your perfect pink lips. When I’m not around you, I’m remembering how your hair smells of coconuts, or how your thoughts are so intricate, I can see them being formed when I look into your eyes.

Since the third grade, Lydia. Since the third damn grade, I have been completely mesmerized by who you are, what you are, how you are. You say I’m your hero, but since our lives became fairy tales, you have been the hero who saves me in the end. Time and time again, you pick me up as I fall, and drag me along for a while if you need to. You have been nothing short of a miracle for me.

You don’t notice, or maybe you do, but when I place my hand on your back for support, or grasp your tiny fingers when you lead me, I feel as though there are cities crumbling to pieces in my core, and I shake like I am the epicenter of an earthquake. I am nervous, and excited, and in love.

Your eyes could lead me through the thickest forest, on the darkest night of the year. The hazel saturation of your irises are like porch lights left on for me to get home safely. I sometimes find it hard to match your gaze, and stare at your button nose instead. I’m afraid if I look at them too long, I’ll have no other choice but to act on how they make me feel.

Your kiss has never left my mouth. It’s like your lips are needles that tattooed themselves onto mine. When I think of that moment- your hands on my cheeks, the pinching in my lungs, the way the sun seemed to flash like the light of a camera-I lose my breath all over again.

There is not a second that goes by that I am not more in love with you than I was before. Every day, I think it’s impossible to love you more, like if I do, I will physically collapse, but every day you prove me wrong, and keep me from crashing to the ground. This started as a crush on the cute girl in my third grade class, but now I do not remember how it feels to not be irretrievably in love with you.

I should be mad that you’ve kept this hidden. I should be yelling because you let me date someone else when you’ve always been right in front of me. I should be angry that you still weren’t going to tell me. But I can’t be. Because you’re you. You’re Lydia, and you’re selfless, and courageous, and will die for the people you love. How can I be mad at that?

Come talk to me. Love like this is scary, but it’s better to be scared together.

sincerely yours, Stiles


	3. Before I'm Erased

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone's speculating about what piece of paper Lydia is holding in the trailer, so I decided to write what I wish it was!! enjoy

Lydia, 

 

I hope when you’re reading this, you’ve just come home from school and your cheeks hurt from laughing all day with our friends, and you’re wearing one of your favorite outfits, and your hair is in one of those intricate braids I always admire but I’ve never told you. I hope you’re doing the psych homework you love, and Prada is sleeping at the foot of your bed. I hope you’re listening to that one weird album you love from that band that even I didn’t know about, and your mom is cooking your favorite meal for dinner (spaghetti, no meatballs, extra mushrooms), and you’re drinking extra strong black coffee because you know you’re gonna be up all night studying. I hope you’re in your happiest state possible. I hope you find your way back to it after all of this is said and done. 

Now for the hard part. It’s 3:30 in the morning, you’re fast asleep feet away from me in my bed, but I couldn’t sleep knowing what’s coming. By the time you’re reading this, they’ve taken me. I want you to know I’m not scared. Yes, my hands are trembling like leaves in November as I’m writing this, but you know me…or maybe you don’t, but they always are. I know what’s coming for me, and I’m prepared to handle it. What I’m not prepared to handle is the thought of you worrying about me after I tell you all of this. I’m not scared, Lydia, so please don’t be scared for me. 

My name is Stiles Stilinski. I live with my dad, the Sheriff of Beacon Hills. I’m a senior at Beacon Hills High School, I play lacrosse (or try to), I love Star Wars, I have a piece of shit blue Jeep that is literally held together by duct tape, and I know you like the back of my damn hand, Lydia Martin.

We have a pack. You, me, and all of the idiots I’m going to tell you about. We’ve literally been to hell and back with them. I’m praying to any God that this will help you remember what our lives really are. This group of people is our home, Lydia. Find them. Stick with them. Never let them go.

My best friend is Scott McCall. I don’t know what my evaporation has done to you two, but he’s one of your best friends as well. He is such a hero it hurts him, but he’s a better person than I could ever even attempt to be. He loves his friends, us, more than anything on this planet, and he’ll protect us unwaveringly, even if that surrenders his own safety. Sophomore year, he was bitten by a werewolf, and it flipped our world upside down. You’re part of that world.

Malia Tate. You taught her how to drive (god help her). She’s a werecoyote. She’s my…friend? Fellow pack member? Not important, what is important is that you find her. She is fiercely loyal and brave, and one of the most selfless people I know. Our pack needs her, and so do you. 

Mason, Liam, and Hayden. The new creatures. They’re small, like, Scrappy Doo small, so even your short self might have to look down to find them. But when you do, you’ll be grateful, because even if they are annoying toddlers sometimes, they have been amazing additions to our pack. At the end of the day, they just needed a home like the rest of us, and they fit right in. 

And then there’s you, Lydia. You’re a banshee. Your powers have kept us alive time after time, life threatening situation after life threatening situation. Maybe you know that, maybe you don’t, and maybe you’ve already thrown this letter away thinking I’m a lunatic, but somehow I know you haven’t. Because whether you remember me or not, not even something as horrific as this could erase a piece of you from my mind. Nothing could take away what I feel and know about you.

I know that you are strong beyond limits and intelligent beyond compare.I know you’ve built up walls so tall around you that you can no longer see the top of them. I know you’ve been chipping away at them for the past two years, and have so graciously let me peek in. I know that you still have a scar from where Prada bit you on your ankle. I know your favorite movie is Clueless, but you tell people it’s Moulin Rouge. I know that you’re going to win a Fields Medal someday. I know that you possess everything you need to live the life you dream of. 

I feel like we didn’t get enough time. I feel like I was taken in the middle of the climax of our story. I feel that you are going to be upset after reading this. I feel like you’re going to cry, and even though you look beautiful while doing it, my heart aches picturing that. I feel a physical hole in my chest imagining myself without you. I feel that I was never meant to live without you by my side, helping me figure things out. Most of all, I feel like you’ll remember. You told me you would, and I feel like I have to believe you. You’ve never given me a reason not to. 

Remember, Lydia? Remember the semi formal? Remember that giant gift I brought to your birthday party? Remember using toilet paper as tissue in my bedroom? Remember the locker room floor? Remember me fainting after we defeated the nogitsune? Remember tangling red string around your fingers on my bed night after night as we tried to untangle our lives? Remember the Jeep? 

I know this letter is a mess, which is an accurate representation of me, and I’m hoping that will help rather than hurt. I know you can do this, Lydia. If there’s anything I know, it’s that you will stop at nothing to save the people you care about, no matter the consequences. And now I know I’m one of those people, and it’s my favorite fact in the world. It’s a fact that will keep me going, wherever I’m going. Even if I never go back home, I will hold onto the fact that Lydia Martin chose to care about me, out of all people on this Earth. And that will be enough.

This isn’t a goodbye letter, Lydia. This is just a piece of the puzzle I know you’ll put together. I have faith in you, always have, always will, and that faith lets me know that this is not the end of us.

see you soon,

Stiles


End file.
